"I am nostalgic for conversations I had yesterday. I am nostalgic for right now."

I can't stand it.
The feeling that tomorrow, You will disappear.
You will all disappear.

I can't stand it.
The feeling that all that has disappeared once was.

I can't stand it.
The feeling that these feelings that I could not once stand, are now understandable. 

I float, knowing that the deeper longing exists, that simplicity was actually the answer, and that letting go was the solution, not the defeat.

I can't stand it -- that there are spaces for can't-standing and there are other spaces for standing, and that I know where I am in those places, but that I can't stand not knowing where I am until it's left.  Maybe I chase and hurry along so that I can recognize .... something.  I want it all to be over so that I can remember.  Maybe Oliver Sacks has a phenomenon to name after me.

It's so odd, to feel the shadow like an impending doom and then to see the monster walk away.  When does failure really start?  Weren't you failing all along?  Always making the wrong choices?  These are not angst-filled regrets -- they are just a nod to the memory of dreams that were thankfully shattered, because the dreams were from Some Body else. Can I coin it "oppression by hope" without seeming a cynic?

Was it cheap? Was it the easy way out? Who is the overseer? Who is the standard of comparison?  These are all just nothing questions.